


We Can Only Speculate

by mcgeekles



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, One Shot Collection, Speculation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgeekles/pseuds/mcgeekles
Summary: A series of speculative oneshots based on promos, set photos and sneak peeks.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Kudos: 15





	1. 12x24 - Neverland

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely wild speculation I wrote based on promos, photos and the like. They'll all be quite dated, they were from a time when I was quite optimistic. I was so so wrong every single time. 
> 
> This oneshot was based on the promo for the season 12 finale 'Neverland'

The wind whipped against Gibbs’ face, the grit of the desert dust stinging his eyes as he scanned the crowd for the dark haired boy with the all too familiar evil glint in his eyes. Frantically he moved through the crowd, pushing his way through the blissfully unaware shoppers, hoping to catch just a glimpse of the boy he knew would bring this market to its knees. The clenching sensation of panic was rising within him, the urgency of their search scrambling his insides, even as his face remained stoic and calm. Arousing suspicion would do nothing for them. Suspicion caused panic, and panic was just another way to cause more casualties. They’d already had more than enough. 

Tony walked through the crowd more slowly, moving swiftly through the maze of people, trying to piece together their suspect’s next move. Gibbs was more nonverbal than usual, his frustration with the case and the grief and guilt of Ned’s death and Diane’s before him building behind his eyes, clouding his thinking. He was desperate, grasping at straws as he scanned the faces in the crowd, glimpsing the smiling faces of boys buying fruit for their mothers, roughhousing with their friends, selling flowers in a booth in the market, none matching the mischief found in the face of their suspect. 

Tony met Gibbs’ eyes over the top of the crowd, the fear clear underneath what he once believed was impenetrable steel. A space cleared between them, the occupants of the market drifting to the edge of the square. Tony shook his head as he scanned once more, an uneasy feeling growing in his gut. 

Then, directly across from Gibbs, 100 feet away, he appeared. The menacing smile he wore was far too cynical for someone his age, and yet as soon as Gibbs saw it, he knew they were stuck. Tony caught Gibbs’ gaze turning quickly to face their suspect, gun drawn and at the ready. They knew what was coming. He took the shot, the boy falling harmlessly to the ground as terrified shouts erupted around them. He knew he’d spotted him a second too late when he saw the trip wire appear across the square and disappear just as quickly. Tony shouted “GET DOWN” in Arabic impressing even Gibbs as the bomb shot out of the ground, the screams of the shoppers, the innocent bystanders, filling the air with a cacophony of noise. 

Gibbs saw someone leap out of the crowd and felt a sharp blow to his ribcage as he was forced to the ground. The heat of the explosion came over him, the sharp sting of shrapnel scraping his skin, embedding itself in his flesh, came milliseconds later. What he’d failed to register was the warmth of the body that now lay next to him. The rain of smoke and debris blanketed the market, horrified screams continuing through the opaque cloud enveloping them. He sat up, trying not to wince at the shrapnel tearing through his side as he called for his partner. 

“DiNozzo!” He called, hoping to god he got any kind of reply. Nothing.

He looked down at the body next to him, a woman by the look of her clothes, now spotted with blood seeping from the shrapnel wounds across her back. He looked away from her once again, looking for Tony. 

“DINOZZO” he tried again, fear creeping into his tone.

He looked back down at the woman beside him and pulled back the pink scarf covering her hair. His face went white, panic settling firmly in his chest as recognition washed over him. Ziva. 

“TONY!” he cried desperately, taking Ziva’s face in his hands, trying to gently rouse her to consciousness. 

“Boss!” He heard from across the market, breathing a sigh of relief. He heard Tony’s footsteps coming closer through the fog and turned his attention entirely to Ziva, quickly checking her pulse and tearing the scarf from her head and pressing it into the wounds on her back, trying to staunch the bleeding. 

“Boss, are you…” he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Ziva laying prostrate on the ground. He dropped to his knees and immediately checked for a pulse, head dropping to his chest when he felt the faint fluttering against his fingers. 

“Ziva,” he barked. No response. 

The two worked seamlessly together, Gibbs handing off pressure duties to Tony to call a med evac team to the site. Tony pressed the scarf into her wounds, the blood soaking through his fingers as he spoke to her, not even trying to elicit a response from her. 

“Ziva. I can’t believe it’s you. How did you even, and why…You don’t get to die right now, Ziva. You don’t. Gibbs didn’t give you permission and I know you’ll swear up and down you’re not an agent anymore but damnit you sure as hell need it.” 

The explosion was making everything in his head swim. The persistent ringing in his ears was making it difficult to think, the sound of Gibbs in the background muffled, his hands shaking. 

“Yeah, I need….mergency med…….this location…agent down……David” he shook his head, trying to shake the cobwebs out, to clear the fog that was quickly settling. He began to sway in his spot, nausea and fatigue overtaking him. 

“Boss,” he called “I don’t…feel…” he fell sideways, trying not to squish Ziva as his body met the ground. 

“Damnit!” Gibbs yelled as he watched Tony fall. He eased him onto his back, checking for injuries when he spotted a rapidly growing patch of red in his stomach. He quickly stripped off his shirt, pressing it into his senior agent’s wound, hoping to god the med team would find them in time. 

“Boss.” Tony said, voice wobbly. Gibbs’ eyes met Tony’s as they slid shut, the blackness of unconsciousness finally overtaking him. 

———

It was many hours later when Tony finally woke. Gibbs sat by his bedside, covered in bandages and coffee in hand. He looked over to him, ignoring the persistent ache in his abdomen. 

“Guess I’ll have to be quicker on my feet next time.” he quipped. 

Gibbs frowned at his antics, clearly unamused by his agent’s near death. 

“How long am I out for?” 

“Six weeks, give or take. Had to stitch up one of your intestines.” 

“Well that’s…disappointing.” 

“What did you expect? That you’d walk out of here?” 

“I know how much you love pushing those wheelchairs, boss. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” 

Another glare. 

“How is she?” he groaned.

“Well as can be expected. Had major surgery to remove all the shrapnel. Stitched her up. She’s resting.” 

“But she’s…” 

“Alive? Yeah. And conscious.” 

“I want to see her.” 

“I’ll see if she’s up to it.” 

As Gibbs walked out of the room, Tony felt his heart start to pound, a nervous tightness settling in his chest. She was here. She was safe. And if there was any god, she would want to see him. He took as deep a breath as his stitches would allow and waited, head laid back against his pillows, trying not to think of all the ways this conversation could go wrong. 

A moment later, he heard the squeak of a wheelchair in the hallway and his head shot up off his pillows, craning over to look through the door. 

As soon as Gibbs wheeled her in, the stress bubble in his chest popped with the sheer relief that she was alive, and despite the multitude of bandages he could see, she was smiling. 

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment before finally forcing out a soft “Hi.” 

She smiled softly in return, “Hello, Tony.”


	2. 10x23 - Double Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Tony finds out about Adam, he and Ziva fight it out. I think when I wrote this I was feeling a little bit dramatic.

There were few things that caused Tony to snap. To go against his better instincts, to get under his skin so much that he could think of nothing else. 

Ziva David was one of those things. 

Tony stood in observation, his hands clenched in anger as Parsons picked his partner apart. He asked her about her father, about her past with Mossad, about her relationship with him, with the team, with Michael fucking Rivkin. He was poking every single wound she had, ripping them wide open. Though she didn’t outwardly show it, he knew inside she was bleeding. It took every once of his self control not to burst in there and rip Parson’s head off with his bare hands. 

He clenched and unclenched his fists, standing otherwise stock still, just watching with a grim expression on his face. His kickass ninja was not a damsel, but she was certainly in distress, and there might not be anything he could do to save her this time. 

“Adam Eschel,” he heard Parsons say through the glass, effectively pulling him out of his brooding. 

Parsons slapped a picture of he and Ziva on the table, staring her down. 

“Yes, I know him. He was once my parter in Mossad." 

There was something Tony didn’t know. 

"You used him to get information about Ilan Bodnar." 

"I asked him for his help, yes, as Mossad also had an interest in finding Bodnar." 

"So you’re saying he used you too?" 

"No, he did not use me.”

“Come on, David, I know what goes on at Mossad. Information doesn’t come free,” he said, almost condescending. "What did you do for it?“ 

"What?" 

"What did you have to do for him to get the information? Did you sleep with him?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Did you sleep with him?” he demanded.

Tony burst into the room, the door crashing forcefully into the wall. 

“Interview’s over.” Tony said sternly. 

“I’m in the middle of an interrogation." 

"You heard me. You’re done here." 

"Tony…” Ziva began

“Ziva, why don’t you take a break.” Tony said, staring Parsons down. 

She gave him a look that clearly indicated that she was not happy with him, but obeyed, waiting in the hall.

“You crossed a line,” he said once Ziva was out of the room.

“Did I?" 

"Hell yes. You have no right talking to her like that,” he said sternly, right up in Parsons’ face. 

“I can speak to her in any way I wish to, Agent DiNozzo. She’s a suspect in the unlawful assassination of a Mossad operative. I suggest you remember that before you interrupt one of my interrogations again.”

Tony gave the annoyingly collected agent a glare that could freeze hell before stalking out of the room. Ziva stood in the hallway, looking increasingly agitated when he grabbed her by the arm and led her to the men’s room. 

“Out!” he barked to the man washing his hands. The man jumped slightly before exiting. 

“What the hell was that?” Ziva asked angrily.

“He crossed a line." 

"He was interrogating me, Tony. I expected it to be uncomfortable. You should have not interrupted him." 

"What and let him spit on your integrity?" 

"You were defending my honor? Is that what that was?" 

"Yes." 

"You should not have.”

“I wasn’t going to let him do that to you." 

"My honor does not need defending,” she snapped.

“Is that because you can do it yourself or because it’s indefensible?" 

"I cannot believe you would ask me that. You’re just as bad as he is!" 

"Doesn’t answer my question." 

"What makes you think you have a right to know?" 

"Because I’m your partner." 

"That is not a reason." 

"It’s the only reason you’ve needed before." 

They maintained their distance, not wanting to provoke one another. Despite that, it did not seem to be working. The look she gave him was hard, angry. 

"You should not ask questions you do not want to know the answer to." 

They stared each other down for a moment, a standoff at its best. 

"I can’t believe you actually slept with him,” Tony said almost incredulously, though anger still seeped through his tone.

“Why is that so hard to believe? He is an attractive man.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“I do not understand why you are so upset.”

“Why would you do that?” He wasn’t as angry anymore as she expected, more distressed. It confused her immensely. 

“When you need information from a contact, typically there is something valuable exchanged. An exchange of information is typical, but that was…unsuitable…as he would have asked me for information about NCIS, and I was not going to give it to him." 

"So you gave it up to him instead.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I did it because I was unwilling to give him any information about NCIS. I was protecting you, and Gibbs and McGee!”

He made a frustrated noise low in his throat.

“What, you always have the right to protect me, but I try to do the same for you and it’s what? Shameful? I am not ashamed of what I did, Tony.”

“Don’t pretend like you did that for me, Ziva. You did it for you. You needed something for your revenge mission, and you went to any length to get it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you reverted back to all your other Mossad instincts, why should that one be any different?" 

"He was the means to an end, and yes, I did what I had to do to get what I needed from him. Do not act like you have never done the same.”

“I have never done what you did.”

“Using your body to get what you need from women? You do it every day." 

"Not like that,” he scoffed, disgusted. 

“You do not get to judge me!” She yelled angrily, “You slept with Jeanne for information about her father for months." 

"That was different,” he said sternly.

“How, Tony? How was that different? Is it because you were on a mission? Because it was orders? Does it make you feel better if you think it wasn’t you that made the decision to jump in bed with her?" 

"You don’t know anything about that, Ziva. Don’t pretend that you do." 

"You’re no different than me, Tony. You do what you have to to finish your mission. That’s it." 

Another standoff.

"You know what? Do what ever, whomever you want. I don’t care." 

He turned away, storming out of the room. 

"Tony,” she started, but he was already gone. 

——-

The tone in the bullpen was tense the rest of the day. Tony and Ziva were shooting each other dirty looks across their desks whenever their eyes happened to meet. 

By the time they were released by the DoD, the tension was unbearable. Tony left first, sulking out of the bullpen as soon as they were given the go ahead. Ziva lagged behind by a couple of minutes, so they would not have to take the elevator together. As she turned to leave, Gibbs shot her a look that clearly said 'fix it.' 

That is how she came to stand in front of the door to Tony’s apartment that night. They had both had a few hours away from each other to cool down, to escape the seemingly unrelenting anger that had them in its clutches all day. She knew if they didn’t resolve this quickly it would take them again. She knocked hesitantly. 

He showed up at the door only a moment later, still in his work clothes. He turned immediately to let her into the apartment. He should have known she would show up here; their argument left quite unfinished. 

“Take off your coat,” he said, “We’re probably going to be here for a while." 

She obeyed, taking off her coat and hanging it over one of the dining table chairs. 

"What are you doing here, Ziva?”

“Do you really have to ask?" 

"No, but before we continue this, can we just try to keep the yelling to a minimum? We don’t want to alert the cougar.”

“I would like to have a discussion. I do not want it to be an argument.”

He nodded. They’d both had more than enough arguing for the day. He sat down in one of his dining table chairs, inviting her to do the same. After a moment of deliberation of how to approach the subject, Ziva decided to jump right in.

“He was a means to an end,” she said simply. “And he was a friend." 

"When did you…" 

"When I was in Israel. He had come to the funeral, and I knew even then that I would eventually need something from him." 

At the funeral. After he told her she wasn’t alone, after she’d slept in his bed and he’d tried so desperately to save her from her nightmares. When he could still smell her in his sheets, he was sleeping with someone else. That stung. 

She could see his face change. His disappointment, despair even, was evident. 

"It didn’t mean anything,” she said, trying to reassure him, though she wasn’t really sure why.

“If it didn’t mean anything, why did you do it?" 

"I am well versed in the ways of Mossad, Tony. I know the way it works there. You do what you must to get what you need. Sometimes that means doing things _you_ perhaps may not be comfortable with." 

There was a short pause as Tony absorbed her words. 

"Did you even enjoy it?” he asked.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Did you?" 

"Yes. He is an old friend, Tony, it was not our first time.”

He looked down, frustrated and sad. He ran his hand over the back of his neck repeatedly, trying to form his next words. 

“Why does this bother you so much?" 

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair a few times before answering. 

"Because I don’t want you to be with anyone else." 

She stood, stunned into silence.

"You know what, forget it." 

She almost opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off.

"I thought we were going somewhere, Ziva." 

"We were. We _are._ This does not change that." 

"What are we?” he asked carefully.

“I do not know. Do you?" 

"I know what I feel. That’s all I need to know." 

"I know what I feel, too. But we seem to hit an drag," 

"Snag,” he corrected. 

“We seem to hit a snag when we try to discuss these feelings." 

"A car crash is more than a snag." 

"Yes, well, I was putting it lightly,” she paused, "When you heard…about Adam…did you feel as though I was unfaithful to you?“ 

"I guess, a little bit. I know we’re not together, but I thought we were working towards something, you know?" 

"Yes. This does not change what we are, Tony. It does not change whatever it is we are doing. But I am sorry you had to find out this way. And I am sorry I did not think of how much it would affect you." 

"You shouldn’t have to apologize. I shouldn't be making you feel like you did something wrong. That was just me feeling…" 

"Territorial?" 

"Not the word I would choose, but yeah, I guess." 

"Apology accepted,” she said. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before Ziva broke the connection. “I should go." 

"Are you sure?" 

"I am. But we will have dinner sometime this week, yes?" 

"Yeah, sure,” he said as she grabbed her coat. 

She reached over and touched his hand. “I never meant to hurt you." 

He gently cupped her hand in his. "I know.”

She simply nodded, releasing his hand and turning away, leaving Tony in her wake.


	3. 10x21 - Berlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speculation for promo pictures of Tony and Ziva/Eli and baby!Ziva dancing from 10x21 'Berlin'. Written 7 (!!!) years ago

Surveillance was not Tony’s favorite thing to do. Usually it consisted of long nights, cold food and snoring from one or more parties involved. This time was different though. This time he had a smoking hot Ziva David on his arm for the night. Though they were working undercover, it didn’t get much better than that. 

She sat with her back to him at the bar, martini in hand as they watched their suspect interact with a not-so-savory character a few booths away. 

“Way to be subtle, David." 

"Subtlety is not exactly your specialty either, DiNozzo." 

"I wasn’t the one that just sat down at the bar and started staring." 

"Do you have a better suggestion?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Why yes, actually, I do,” he said, moving swiftly from behind her. “May I have this dance?" 

She looked at him skeptically for a moment before he waggled his eyebrows at her, making her smile. She rolled her eyes before setting her drink down and placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, settling into a spot with a decent view of their suspect. He grasped her waist, and for a second marveled at how small she really was. 

"You look beautiful tonight, you know." 

"Thank you,” she replied, “You don’t look so bad yourself.

"I clean up okay, I guess,” he shrugged. 

“You have something on your mind. What is it?" 

"Well, I just have one question,” he said, his eyes meeting hers.

“Yes?" 

"Just where are you keeping your gun?” he asked, giving her elevator eyes. 

She did the same, drawing her smoldering eyes up to meet his. “Why do you ask the question if you already know the answer?" 

"Maybe I’m just curious to see if I’m right, that’s all. Or maybe it was to see if I could get a rise out of you." 

"Oh I believe I would be the one getting a rise out of you tonight." 

"Miss David are you trying to seduce me?" 

"Is it working?" 

"Always,” he said softly.

They looked deeply into each other’s eyes for a moment, before Ziva’s eyes darted quickly down to his lips. Their hearts skipped a beat before she rose up on her toes to bring her lips to his. Much to her dismay, he pulled away before she could reach him. 

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Not here." 

She immediately looked crestfallen. He didn’t need to see her face to feel her disappointment. 

"Don’t think for a second this is me saying no.” he said, nuzzling her ear slightly. “You have no idea how much I want that, Ziva. We just can’t do it here, okay?" 

He pulled back to look her in the eye, "Your safety is more important than anything right now. I gotta stay focused if I’m going to keep you safe." 

Flashback

_"Papa, dance with me one last time before you go,” Ziva said, her enthusiasm making her father smile softly._

_“For you, my daughter, anything."_

_Ziva smiled broadly as she took her father’s hand in hers. She stood up tall, holding her frame elegantly as Eli began to sway._

_"So this is what they are teaching you in that fancy school I’m sending you to."_

_"Yes, Papa. I’m going to be a dancer someday."_

_"And you will be a beautiful one, Zivaleh.” Ziva smiled up at him, her eyes bright and optimistic at the prospect of dancing forever. Soon though, she looked down, the smile slipping from her features._

_“Do you have to go, Papa?"_

_"I do. It is for…"_

_"The safety of Israel,” she said, disappointed._

_“You know it is my duty."_

_"I do. But who is going to keep you safe?”_

_“I will have a partner with me. And even if I did not, you know that it is my job, Zivaleh. The world is dangerous, and there are many people who want to do harm to us. I must protect you. Your safety will always mean much more to me than my own. Yours and Ari’s and Tali’s."_

_"I know.” she said, sadly, leaning forward and placing her head on his chest._

_“I can hear your heartbeat, Papa,” she whispered, a small smile blossoming on her face._

_“Always know, my Ziva, as long as my heart is beating, I will be keeping you safe. I will always try my best to come home alive, so I can do it for a long, long time.”_

_“When you come home, I will have to listen again, just to be sure.”_

_“Of course,” he said, kissing her head. “Of course."_

\-------

Ziva looked up into Tony’s eyes and nodded subtly. She gently brought her body closer to his, laying her head on his chest. He leaned down to gently kiss her head, taking a moment to breathe in the scent that was uniquely her, tightening his grip on her waist. 

She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to him for just a moment, letting out a soft sigh. 

She could hear his heartbeat.


	4. 10x04 Lost at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cute, but you had your chance. " Written as a tag to the Lost at Sea sneak peek. It's clearly wish fulfillment, and I've spruced it up a bit for the reposting.

_“Cute, but you had your chance."_

The words had been echoing in his mind all day.

_"Cute, but you had your chance."_

She said it as though he should know exactly what she was talking about. 

He didn’t. He didn’t have the faintest fucking idea, and it scared the hell out of him.

He wracked his brain for any time in his life that he could have actually had a normal, functioning romantic relationship with Ziva, and he was drawing a huge blank. 

From the moment they met there had been an undeniable attraction between them, one that led to shameless flirtation. _Right now you're thinking of doing page 57 with me._ There were times when they subsisted only on sex and whispered conversation; a contrast to their day to day life, which was filled with conflict and irritation. They weren't in a relationship back then, they were just young and full of lust they needed to burn off. That didn't go as planned. 

Even after their dalliance had petered out their attraction to each other did not fade. Through the years it waxed and waned, always bubbling under the surface, at times boiling over in a rage. Passion, as it turned out, came in many forms. There were times he thought about saying to hell with the rules and going for it, admittedly not as many times as he thought about bending her over his desk, or hers...really any desk would do. He shook his head, not a productive line of thought. Oddly enough, recently his thoughts were straying towards waking up with her every morning, not the acts that would come before. 

Now that he really thought about it, despite their mutual desire, there were very few opportunities for them to be together. There was always something in the way. Jeanne, Rivkin, EJ, Ray - poorly timed, ill-fated relationships across the board. Then there was their inability to have a straight conversation, always talking around each other in circles, fighting through the hurts without revealing the true reason for the pain. 

_I am grateful to have someone in my life who is just as romantically dysfunctional as I am._ That's what she'd said last year. She thought there was something wrong with her. To be fair, he was fairly convinced there was something wrong with him too. He'd bided his time, wondering if there was ever going to be a time when they'd both be ready. No road blocks, no denials, no missions or oceans to separate them.

 _Cute, but you had your chance._ Had he somehow missed his opportunity?

Her words were still gnawing at his gut a good while later. They were once again alone in the bullpen. McGeek was off playing mad scientist with Abby and Gibbs was stuck in MTAC. They would likely be alone for a while. 

Ziva was typing away, her report not nearly finished. Her fingers danced across her keyboard, her face knit into a small frown. Tony simply stared. She felt his eyes on her as she always did. She quickly ceased her actions and looked up to meet his eyes. 

“Something wrong, Tony?” she asked.

“What did you mean before?" 

"When?” 

“I had my chance?" 

"I mean exactly what I said. You have missed many opportunities to ask me out." 

"See, I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I just don’t think that’s true.” 

Ziva got up and walked over to his desk, plopping herself down right in front of him.

“Perhaps many opportunities is an exaggeration,” she conceded. 

"That's a relief. I thought I was going crazy." 

"You have…thought of it, then?" 

‘Well yeah. First time I thought about it you had just brought me coffee and stolen my last slice of pizza." 

"That was the day we met." 

"Yes it was." 

She remained silent for a moment, a smirk gracing her features. 

"Was there another time you thought about it?" 

"When Gibbs was taking his Mexican siesta. You were sitting on my couch in nothing but a pair of yoga shorts and this giant NCIS sweatshirt. You just looked over at me and smiled because we were watching CSI and you guessed who the killer was." 

"Any others?”

“They built up a lot over the years. I was always thinking about it but I never pulled the trigger.”

"Why?"

He shrugged, licking his bottom lip, "It never seemed like the right time."

She nodded in understanding. Their history was storied, to say the least. 

"Do you think it will ever be the right time?" She asked softly.

"Do you?" 

"I do. But I have thought so before."

"When?"

“In the summer, a few weeks after the bombing. We had just finished watching Chicago because I forced you to watch it even though you hate musicals. I got up to leave, you walked me to the door…We were standing there, Tony, you were looking right into my eyes just as you are now…I thought you were going to kiss me, but you did not." 

His eyes widened, he knew exactly what she was talking about. 

"I thought that would be the moment…but it seems as though we were not on the same page.” She paused briefly, “There are times that I feel as though you can read my thoughts, but there are many others that you are just caught up in the jungle of your own." 

"I think jumble is what you were going for, but jungle works too.” She smiled.

He paused, the silence comfortable.

“Did you ever think that maybe I was just too distracted by your beauty?" 

"Ha!” she laughed “Do you say that to all the girls?”

“Some, and sometimes it's true, but I’ll tell you Ziva, I have never been distracted so easily or so often with anyone but you.” His voice was so sincere her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were sparkling with something she wasn’t certain she could identify. 

“Tony…." 

"I didn’t kiss you because we'd just been through something traumatic. I didn’t want to confuse us with more emotional stuff. We’re bad enough as it is without a terrorist on the loose." 

"Yes. We have quite a bit of baggage between us." 

"We've had enough head shrinkers come through here to know we've got issues." 

"Maybe that is what makes us a good team." 

His mind jumped back to a year ago, just one desk away they had nearly this conversation, but to a very different end. She was available, and he was too. "Emotional and romantic dysfunction." 

"Yes.” she whispered. His eyes bore into hers, their intense connection causing her breath to hitch, her heart to beat just a little bit faster. His hands rested on the outside of her thighs, the heat intensified by his stare. 

“There will never be a perfect time.” she said, breaking eye contact, eyes flicking down for a split second before meeting his burning gaze once again.

“Now seems like a pretty good time to me.”

“Is it?” she asked with a smirk.

“It’s as good a time as any,” a matching smile spread across his face. "I know you said I missed my chance…“ 

"I believe I can give you just one more."


	5. 10x21 - Berlin (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple chapters back we had pre-Berlin speculation, and what we have here today is some post-Berlin speculation. This oneshot was originally posted with the title 'Road Block' and has been fairly heavily rewritten to make it less terrible.

_His hands were big and warm. That was the first thing she thought when he took her hand in his. The way the warmth spread like sparks as their fingers laced gently together, his larger ones enveloping hers. It felt natural. As though they were meant to live there._

_Her heart was in her throat. He had never been so honest with her, so open. It is time she thought. It was time to tell him…whatever came to her mind, or more accurately, to her heart. She looked over at him, a shy smile on her face, preparing to have what could be the most important conversation of her life._

_“Tony,”_

_“Yeah?” he asked, turning to her with a small, almost hopeful smile on his face as well._

_“I…wanted to thank you, for always having my back. For always being there for me, and for always…making me feel so loved.” Though his eyes were on the road, she could see a smile blossoming on his face. She paused, “I know that at times our partnership has been…difficult, but you have always been there when I needed you, and you have always made me happy when I thought no one could.”_

_He squeezed her hand a little bit tighter, “I’m not going to lie to you, it wasn’t always easy but I wouldn’t change it for anything.” he said, pressing a sweet kiss to her hand._

_Her heart was beating fast as she smiled broadly at him. This was it. This was going to change everything. This was…fading away. Tony’s smiling face was disappearing, replaced with a more ghastly image of him bloodied and unconscious._

_She could feel a burning in her lungs and muffled pain almost everywhere, and there was a car horn blaring but she couldn’t be sure why. She could smell acrid smoke and burning rubber and blood. Was there a bomb? She couldn’t be sure. She heard her name as a desperate cry and a sudden, sharp jolt of pain._

She shot up in bed with a gasp, clenching her fist, quickly noting that Tony’s fingers were no longer laced between hers. She felt around frantically, trying to find her partner’s hand.

“Tony,” she gasped.

It was then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Ducky.

“Where is Tony?” she asked, frantically.

“My dear, you must calm down.”

“Ducky, where is he?” she asked more adamantly.

“Anthony is in a different room for now.”

She lay back. Of course they were stuck in the hospital. She’d seen him briefly when they’d woken in the car, disoriented and aching. They’d been placed in separate ambulances, despite her objections that she was fine and didn’t need to go to the hospital, and she hadn’t seen him since.

“I need to see him.”

“You cannot, I’m afraid. They should be taking him for an MRI any time now.”

“For what?”

“They are looking for skull fractures.” Ducky explained as Ziva paled visibly. “They believe he hit his head on the window.”

“And when he returns?”

“I believe they will keep him in intensive care until he wakes.” 

“He has not woken up?” 

“He was unconscious when Jethro and I saw him. Was he awake when the emergency response team arrived?

“I…I do not know. Everything feels quite fuzzy.”

“That would be the concussion. But it is imperative that you tell me anything you can remember.” he said as he raised the bed so Ziva could sit up comfortably.

She allowed herself to sit back and think back to the events still jumbled in her head.

_“Tony.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_She saw his eyes widen in shock and fear, her name a desperate cry from his lips. A split second later, he dove towards her in the cabin, pulling her down towards him, their hands still connected. The jolt of impact shocked her entire being, her body flailing around as the car was flung across the street. Tony held tight to her body as long as he could, trying his best to protect her from harm._

_As the car jolted to a stop, she could feel herself being thrown back into her seat, her hand becoming dislodged from Tony’s. She wanted to ask him if he was alright. She wanted nothing more than to hold his hand once again, but she could not. She couldn’t force her body to move. She took a breath, feeling Tony’s fingers brush against her hand, and tears came to her eyes, knowing that he was trying to get to her, too._

_She fought against the pain to stay awake, to stay conscious, but the car horn was so loud, and the throbbing pain in her shoulder was too much, and her lungs were on fire. Though she was looking at Tony, wishing hoping, praying to see any sign of life, she registered movement on her other side. She turned her head in time to see a man reaching into the cabin through the now shattered window, looking around for just a second before reaching down and scooping up the little black bag of diamonds that lay at Ziva’s feet._

_“Did you really think you could outsmart him, bitch?” he said, menacingly._

_She was powerless to do anything as he back handed her roughly, pushing her into unconsciousness._

Ducky looked at her, concerned.

“It was Ilan. One of his…associates…hit us on my side of the car. I was awake for a moment, but Tony was not. The assailant reached into the car, took the diamonds and knocked me out. When I woke the first time Tony was awake, speaking with the EMT, but I could tell he was in pain.”

“My dear, if you will excuse me for a moment, I will call your doctor to speak with you, and I must call Jethro.”

“Yes, of course.” she said, jaw clenched as she held back her tears. They would only increase the throbbing in her head. 

As soon as Ducky left the room, Ziva struggled to get out of bed. One of her arms was in a sling, clearly dislocated at one point, and she could feel stitches up and down her right side. Her normally agile body was aching and sluggish. She got as far as touching her feet to the floor when the doctor entered.

“Agent David!” she cried in surprise “You shouldn’t be out of bed!”

Ziva shook her head. “It is exactly where I should be. I need to see Tony.”

“I understand you want to see your partner, Agent David, but I must insist you stay in bed for the time being. You have a dislocated shoulder, fractured ribs and dozens of stitches.” She said, trying her best to get Ziva back in bed.

“I am aware of my injuries, and I do not need to be here,” Ziva said. 

“Agent David, please. You have to stay in bed.”

“This is ridiculous, you cannot keep me here.” 

“Ziver, stop harassing the nurses,” Gibbs said, striding into the room with coffee in hand. 

“Gibbs, I do not need to be here. I need to see Tony.” 

“DiNozzo’s getting his head scanned. You couldn’t see him even if you were allowed out of bed.” The nurses checked her IV before making a quick exit. 

“I do not need to stay here. I am fine.” 

“You can barely stand up.” 

She glared at him, sitting back down on the bed.

“You need to stay put. They want to keep you overnight for observation.” 

“Gibbs….” 

“You were in an accident,”   
“Is it still considered an accident if you are hit on purpose?” 

“Exactly my point. Bodnar is gunning for you. You’re lucky you weren’t killed.” 

“He did not want to kill me. He wanted to punish me for thinking I could outsmart him.” 

“And you can get back to outsmarting him when the doctors clear you,” he said, tucking her back into bed.

“Fine.” Ziva pouted as he made a show of fluffing her pillow and he almost laughed at the absurdity of it. 

“Thank you. Eat some jello.” 

xx

When Ziva woke next, about an hour after nodding off, jello uneaten, she felt much stiffer than before. A dull ache thrummed through her body, making it difficult to try to move anywhere, her neck especially. She opened her eyes, her gaze falling to Gibbs keeping vigil.

“Ziver. How you feeling?”

“Fine. How is Tony?”

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her obvious lie. “Asleep.” 

“His head?”

“Somehow even harder than yours.”

“Can I see him, please?”

“It’s the middle of the night.” 

“Please, Gibbs?” her eyes pleaded with him. 

“Yeah. I can bring you to him.” He knew she wouldn’t sleep through the night without laying eyes on him. 

“Thank you,” she said, her relief evident.

Gibbs helped Ziva carefully into a wheelchair despite her protests _hospital policy, David, suck it up_ and brought her down to see Tony, trying not to jostle her too much along the way. He could tell the entire event was playing with her emotions. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so constantly close to tears the entire time he’d known her. As they entered Tony’s room, Ducky looked up from the book he was reading, glad to see Ziva finally getting what she desired so much.

“How are you feeling, Ziva?” he asked.

“I am fine,” she answered automatically, her eyes never leaving Tony’s too-still form.

“I’ll give you some privacy. Coffee, Jethro?”

“Sure, Duck. Thanks,” he said, showing no intentions of moving from the room.

Ducky only nodded as he left, watching Gibbs settle Ziva by Tony’s bed.

She took Tony’s hand in hers gently, running her fingers over his knuckles, careful of the half moon of cuts her fingernails had made. Her ability to keep up her carefully crafted mask was weakened by pain killers, and Gibbs was unsurprised to see tears were making their way down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Tony.” She kept his hand clasped firmly in hers, wishing they never had to let go in the first place.

“What happened?” Gibbs asked softly.

“What happened when?”

“In the car. Why didn’t you see it before.”

“I…was looking at him, and he was looking at me. He saw it just before it hit, but it was too late to do anything but hold on.”

“Why was he looking at you?”

“We were talking.”

“You do that a lot?” he asked

“Yes.” If he meant taking a very small step forward in their relationship and almost talking about their feelings, then yes, they did that a lot. Too often, in fact, without the desired results.

“What are his injuries?” she asked, not entirely certain she wanted to know.

“Grade 2 concussion, broken nose, fractured wrist, his bad knee is swelled up. You two were lucky.”

“Somehow I do not think Tony sees it that way,” she said sadly, her eyes not leaving his face.

“He cares more about you than he does himself. You know that.”

She nods subtly. “Sometimes I wish he did not. He needs to take care of himself.” 

_‘Taking care of you is taking care of himself’,_ Gibbs thought. 

“I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“He’s been awake and talking, he’s just beat.” 

“And you did not wake me?” 

“You need your rest too, Ziver.” 

“I am fine. I am not the one with a brain injury.” Technically untrue, but he let it go.

“You’ll see him in the morning.” 

“Okay,” she said softly, conceding the battle.

She sat by his bedside for a few more minutes before Gibbs pried her away.

xx

Tony woke up the next day with a start, surprised to see Ziva sitting in the bed next to his.

“Tony,” she gasped in relief. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck. Oh wait…”

“You are not as funny as you think you are.” she said, frowning slightly, climbing gingerly out of bed to stand at his bedside.

“I thought it was pretty good,” he said through a pained smile.

“How are you really?”

“I kind of feel like I’m gonna puke,” he said honestly.

“That would be the concussion.”

“Yeah. You have one of those?”

“Yes,” she said calmly, “Though not nearly as severe as yours.”

This was not how she had imagined his first moments of consciousness. She had wanted them to be more…sweet? Romantic? She wasn’t certain what she was truly going for, but she knew it was more than this.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re in better shape than me.”

“I’m not,” she said.

“Not in better shape or…”

“Not glad I’m in better shape. If anyone should be more injured, it should be me.”

“If that were the case, I would feel terrible for not doing my job properly." 

"How many times must I tell you that it is not your job to protect me?" 

"As many times as I have to tell you it is whether you like it or not. I’ve put myself in harm’s way for you before, and I would do it again in a heartbeat." 

"I wish you wouldn’t. I cannot allow you to sacrifice your life for the sake of mine. I do not deserve it." 

"You say that, but I know for a fact it isn’t true." 

"The only reason we are in this mess in the first place is because I was set on revenge. I was the one that got you involved in this. This is my fault. You should not have to take on the consequences of my actions." 

"You know that I wouldn’t have gone with you if I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with you. I always want to be with you,” he said, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers once again.

“Tony,” she started “We cannot.” She didn’t need to elaborate.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean we cannot do this. We cannot…maybe this is fate telling us not to do this.”

“Fate has had it out for us for years.”

“And it has stopped us many times before. Why should we ignore it now?”

“Because it’s different now. We’re different.”

She looked at him, despair and confusion written on her face.

“Just think about it, okay?” he said. If this wasn’t a big enough catalyst to make them take the leap, he wasn’t sure what was.

She nodded in solemn confirmation. They fell into silence, their fingers still intertwined.

“I am glad you are alright,” she said after a while.

He squeezed her hand the best he could, “I’m glad my ninja is okay, too.” Her only response was a sad smile.

xx

Later that day Tony had succumbed to sleep once again snoring much louder than usual, she supposed because of his broken nose, but Ziva lay awake. The dull buzz of hospital activity surrounded her as she watched him lay blissfully unaware of the emotions raging within her. Before they’d spoken she was so sure that she wanted to move forward with him. She felt it in her heart. She should be relieved that despite the crash he wanted to be with her, but she was shaken. He should not want her. He should not still be willing to put himself out there for her after all she had put him through. She flew them halfway across the world with only vengeance in her heart. Maybe if she had left it alone they would not have been hit, and he would not be injured. She was stupid, putting him at risk like that, not only because of her bloodlust, but because she had distracted him. She had taken his attention away from the task at hand, and he was in the hospital.

The guilt she felt was overwhelming, and she could think of only one thing to do to rectify it. She had to find Ilan and end this once and for all. She had to leave him behind, let go whatever it was they were thinking of starting. It was the only way to keep him safe from harm. Nearly every injury he had incurred in recent memory had been because of her. She could not allow more harm to befall him. She would have to slip out, leave him behind. The mere thought of pushing him further from her again brought tears to her eyes, but it was for the best. 

She lay in bed, preparing her escape, watching him breathe and trying to harden her heart. She was going to break her own heart, and worse, she was going to break his.

xx

That night it was silent in the hospital room. The rest of the team had come and gone, and the hustle and bustle of hospital life had died away. Tony slept soundly as Ziva dressed as swiftly as she could. She had to get out of there as quickly as possible. Tony couldn’t know she was leaving, or she knew she would never make it out clean. She crept past his bed, hoping her much clumsier form would not alert him.

“Tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing,” he rasped.

Ziva froze in her spot, knowing that she couldn’t leave without answering him.

“What would that be?”

“Sneaking out in the middle of the night without being discharged?”

“I do not need to be here anymore. There is nothing they can do for me. I need to be back at NCIS, looking for Ilan.”

“You need to be here or they would have discharged you already.”

“Do not make this difficult. You know you’re not going to be here for your recommended stay either. You will get restless.”

“Right now I can’t imagine being anything but nauseous, but you’re probably right.”

“See? I have been here an entire day already. So just let me go. Let me work, please.”

“I would if that were the only reason you were leaving.”

“What other reason would there be?”

“You’re running away from this.”

“There is no this, Tony. There cannot be a this.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this,” he said, motioning between them, “has been going on for a while.”

“Not in the way that you’re implying.”

“What am I implying, Zee-vah?”

“That we are involved…in a relationship.”

“We are. Trust me, whether or not we realized it before, we’re in a relationship.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“When is the last time you went on a date?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, puzzled at his question.

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

She stayed silent

“Exactly,” he said.

“Exactly what?” she asked growing frustrated.

“You want to know the last real date I went on?” she shook her head. “It was with EJ.”

Ziva looked vaguely surprised at the revelation.

“Last time I had sex? That hasn’t been quite as long of a stretch, but I can tell you that I don’t stare at every woman that passes me by anymore. I don’t try to go home with a different woman every night. Because none of them are you.”

“Tony,” she said, surprised.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“I do not feel the same.” she said, but she could tell he didn’t believe it. They’d come too far together for him to believe any of her lies.

“Come over here, Ziva.”

She looked at him skeptically.

“Please, just come here,” he said.

“What?” she asked when she arrived at his bedside.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life. Why?”

He didn’t respond, simply cradled her head in his hand, bringing her slowly towards him.

“Tony,” she quietly protested, but made no move to stop him.

He brought her lips to his, capturing them in a sweet, gentle kiss. She surrendered herself to him, allowing the warmth he caused to spread through her, making it that much harder to do what she knew she must do. He held her there for only a moment or so before pulling away. Tears were already welling in her eyes as he looked at her, only love pouring out of him.

“If you can tell me that you didn’t feel anything, I’ll consider letting it go for now.”

She couldn’t lie to him. She couldn’t tell him she felt nothing because she knew she loved him beyond a shadow of a doubt, but she’d made up her mind. It was for his own good. As she pulled away from him, her heart was practically ripping in two.

“We cannot do this.” she said, tears starting to spill over. She pulled away from his hands, apologizing as she went.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry, I can’t.” She shook her head as she backed out of the room. “I can’t.”

“Ziva, wait,” he called, but she was gone.

xx

She didn’t visit during his remaining time in the hospital. Though he didn’t stay for much longer, he was discharged the next day after a small bout of whining, it hurt when she didn’t come by.

The first time he saw her after the kiss, she was radiating tension. Every bit of her body language was telling him to stay away and though he wanted so badly to touch her, to try to reach out, he refrained. She wouldn’t even look at him, actively avoiding his gaze through the remainder of the case. Even when nothing turned out to be what it seemed, and everything she thought she knew was turned upside down, the walls stayed up, and he was firmly on the outside.

He knew he should be angry. He should want to snap back at her, to make her feel the sting of rejection as he did, but she was cracking around the edges. She may be able to hide it from every one else, but never from him. He could feel her starting to crumble under the pressure of the trials set upon them and it frustrated him that as much as he wanted to sweep her into his arms she was drifting further and further away. 

Their world was starting to fall apart. Investigations opened, prodding open wounds and forcing them to question their integrity, the righteousness that fueled them. One day, sooner than they would have thought, they ended up in court. When the prosecutor started picking them apart piece by piece she took his hand in hers and he let her. She breathed a tiny sigh of relief, the warmth of connection a thrill after weeks of forced silence. When he brushed his thumb across her knuckles, she took it as permission to lean into him, relishing in the comfort and security his solid frame provided. Beside her, despite the unknown expanse in front of them, Tony allowed sparks to form a tiny flame of hope. 

Perhaps, even through the destruction and doubt, they might just make it after all.


End file.
